


Stay?

by Lokiof221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1720247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokiof221B/pseuds/Lokiof221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock gets hurt on a case and John's at his wit's end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time posting on this website so any feedback is much appreciated :)

“You can’t just run off Sherlock. Look what happened this time! If I hadn’t followed you, you would be dead right now.” John was angry, he was furious, he was-

-he was tired. This was the 3rd time this had happened in as many weeks, he couldn’t bear seeing Sherlock getting hurt but he seemed to not care at all for his own well being.

“Well then it’s a good job you got here on time, isn’t it. The girl is safe and the perpetrator in cuffs. I don’t see why you’re so angry.” No, of course. All knowing Sherlock Holmes would choose to be oblivious at just the wrong time. 

They had been hunting down a kidnapper that had taken a little girl from the park and Sherlock had decided that as soon as he figured out where she was, he would go running off to find her. On his own. Without John, and that was why they were in this predicament.

 

“Sherlock, you got shot. In the arm yes, but a little further left and it would have hit something major and you would be dead.” As John was once again trying to explain why it was bad for Sherlock to get shot, the man himself had flagged down a cab and was holding the door open for John in a rare display of manners.

“Come along John, there’s no point staying here. Lestrade has it covered and you look as if you’re going to collapse at any moment.” It was true, running after Sherlock after a busy day at work was enough to make his limbs feel like lead weights and he begrudgingly caught the door and got in the cab after Sherlock. 

“221B Baker Street.”

 

John sat staring out of the window and once again found himself contemplating why, after everything that had happened to him, he was still running after Sherlock, his crazy flatmate. Because that’s all he was, a flatmate and John could not resent that more. Having a crush on the great Sherlock Holmes was one thing, but actually maybe sort of falling in love with him was something else entirely. It had been almost a year since he had moved into Baker Street and over time his feelings had grown into something that could no longer be controlled. Luckily for him, Sherlock hadn’t found out yet, hopefully never would, but it was getting harder and harder for John to keep it to himself, what with the way he flew into a blind rage when the detective put himself in danger. In fact even now he could feel it rising to the surface, an white hot ball of rage sitting in his chest, begging for an outlet. Tonight had changed something though, he had finally realised that things were never going to change between them, Sherlock would never see him as more than furniture, something to be used and cast away. His thoughts were straying down dark roads and for once John didn’t stop them.

 

He will never see you.

 

He will never care.

 

If you keep going like this you will be alone. Forever.

 

There is only one thing you can do. 

Self-preservation-the only thing left to you when you’re in too deep for anything more than your sanity to be salvaged.

 

Loving Sherlock Holmes was never a good idea, and it was only now that he was allowing himself to see the only possibility open to him, the one he had never even dared to consider before. He had to leave. John Watson would have to leave 221B Baker Street and Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2

John Watson was a simple man so naturally the first thing he did when they got back to the flat was boil the kettle for a cuppa. Taking out two cups, he made the tea and took it in to Sherlock who had thrown himself onto the sofa with his usual grace.

“Here.” He said shortly, he was still reeling from what he had been thinking about on the way back, first and foremost; could he actually leave, could he give this up. After thinking about it, now he was starting to think that no, he couldn’t. It was a well known fact that he was an adrenalin junkie and he needed the rush that Sherlock’s work gave him but something had to give. Glancing over to his flatmate, he saw that he had his good arm thrown over his eyes as if blocking out the world and had not yet touched his cup of tea, “Drink your tea Sherlock, the way you’ve been going God knows you need it.”

Slowly one of Sherlock’s eyes cracked open and started to flicker all over his face and run down his figure, any other time it would have almost been welcome, the attention, but now with Sherlock looking at his like an experiment he thought he’d rather go without. He needed to think about this with a clear head, not one fogged with fatigue and simmering anger that was still directed at his flatmate.

 

John watched as Sherlock took a drink of his tea and decided to down his so he could go to bed before he did or said something he would probably later regret.

“Right. I’m off to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.” Sherlock didn’t acknowledge him but just turned around on the sofa so his back was to John.

“Right, okay then.”

 

Once again his mind strayed to Sherlock, he probably should leave that was a definite, people had said it to him enough but he didn't know if he could. He would more than likely have to stay with Harry for a little while so he could find a place, he may need another flatmate; everything at this moment was up in the air.

The idea of talking to Sherlock popped into his mind and was quickly dismissed, it would be awkward and he didn’t think he could take the inevitable rejection.

He would just have to wait and see what morning would bring him

 

\---------------------------------

John woke slowly to that sounds of a violin being tortured and his mind immediately went back to last night and what he had been contemplating before he had fallen asleep. Not only might it be a cruel thing to do, but if Sherlock called his bluff and actually let him leave then he would be devastated. Last night he was thinking that Sherlock never showed any kind of emotion unless under stress, Baskerville for example, so what if he could threaten to leave and see what happened. It would be a huge risk as he had decided that he didn’t really have the will to leave the man he had fallen in love with but it would be worth it to get some sort of response from him. The only problem was though that the best lies had an element of truth in them and if what he planned to say strayed into dangerous territory, then Sherlock would find out how John felt about him. It was a bad plan, but it was the only one he had, he needed to know if there was any point in him staying.

 

John slowly made his way out of bed as his legs were like jelly from chasing Sherlock around London. Pulling a worn beige jumper over his head, he made his way down the stairs towards the horrible sounds coming from the living room.

 

“Sherlock! Would you cut that out! Mrs Hudson is probably still asleep.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the din and when his words did reach Sherlock, he lifted his bow and turned around slowly.

“Good Morning John.” There was something wrong. Even John could see that much, the way Sherlock was holding himself for one thing, he was as taut as a violin string, and his eyes, whereas they usually rested on his violin or John, they flitting about all over the place. He reminded John of something but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was until Sherlock spoke again, “Are you still angry?” John would have to say that he had never heard Sherlock’s voice sound like that before, small and quiet and then John knew what is was Sherlock reminded him of. The great consulting detective looked like a scared child in front of an angry parent and didn’t that sting. Granted he was older than Sherlock but if the man saw him as some sort of authority figure then that pretty much blew John’s plans to Hell.

“Yes Sherlock, I’m still angry and you shouldn’t be playing when your arm is bandaged up like that, let me have a look at it.” He held his arm out and Sherlock slowly approached with a crestfallen look on his face.

“What’s wrong Sherlock, does your arm hurt?” 

“No it’s fine. Why are you still angry? It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing before and you’ve never cared before. You’ve never reacted like you did last night.” Again that small voice was back and John hated it. It was so not-Sherlock that it made him very worried. However, it was then that Sherlock’s words registered and John once again felt that white hot rage fill him. He had never cared before! What planet had Sherlock been living on, to say he was the observant one, sometimes he missed the obvious.

“Sherlock,” John spoke with clenched teeth and measured words, “we will talk about why I am angry later after I have redressed your arm.”

 

For better or for worse, it only took a few minutes to redress the ‘scratch’ on Sherlock’s arm and soon his attention was back on his face. They looked at each other for what felt like a long time and John thought about his plan to get Sherlock to open up. This was a perfect opportunity and it was now or never, he knew it was cruel but he needed to know if he had any chance whatsoever and no way was Sherlock going to make a move if he felt the same way John did. He just hoped it wouldn’t backfire and end up with hurt feelings on both sides.

“Sherlock. What you did yesterday was stupid and unnecessary! You know I would have come to help you if you needed me, for that matter you know Lestrade would as well.” John spoke in a quiet voice because the way Sherlock was acting scared him a little, he had never seen him look so vulnerable.

 

“Sherlock, will you please tell me why you thought it was a good idea to run after Peters alone?” He wasn’t really expecting an answer so when Sherlock looked up and opened his mouth, he couldn’t help but be surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up very shortly so stay tuned :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger in the last chapter :)
> 
> Just for reference for this fic, Sherlock shot the bomb at the pool.

Before he spoke, Sherlock seemed to realise that his expression wasn’t in it’s normal indifferent mask and schooled it quickly, “I didn’t need any help with him, I handled it just fine.” Sherlock spoke with his usual arrogance but John felt a pang of hurt at his words; did Sherlock not need him at all?

 

“No John, don’t look like that. I didn’t need help but I knew you would be there just in case I did, you always are. This-” Sherlock tried to raise his arm and then thought better of it and just pointed to it instead, “this is nothing! It’s only transport, I’ve told you that before, what does it matter if I get hurt so long as the case is solved.” 

 

He knew Sherlock thought his body was transport but it was the way he said it that riled John, he could feel himself becoming angry and he wasn’t so reserved now that Sherlock had stopped looking like a kicked puppy.

“Sherlock. You have to understand that I don’t like seeing you hurt, you see everything, you must see that. But still you run off by yourself after dangerous people, for God’s sake, you went after Moriarty alone and nearly got yourself blown up.” John would never forget the horror he had felt when he had woken up with the dead weight of Sherlock’s body draped over his legs after the bomb had blown.

 

“You refuse to ever let anyone help you and sometimes it makes me wonder if you really need me at all. You’ve said it yourself that Molly is a capable mortician so what could you possibly need me for. I do all of the housework, I run all sorts of stupid errands for you and what do I ever get in return? Nothing, yes my limp is gone but I would have eventually fixed that myself but I get nothing from this, you do not appreciate anything that I do and you demean me regularly. Anyone else would have left by now but I stayed. God knows why!”

John was breathing heavily and was staring straight into Sherlock’s eyes, it was true that Sherlock didn’t really acknowledge him but if he had not met Sherlock, he would probably be dead right now. He had been in such a bad place and Sherlock had saved him from making a truly foolish decision. 

 

It was too late to take it back now, no matter how much he wanted to because Sherlock had frozen. His pale grey eyes were focused totally on John and he didn’t like what he saw there, Sherlock looked broken, like John had said he was never allowed to take another case again. However then Sherlock’s face cleared and became blank, his eyes hardened and the look in them almost made John flinch.

 

He prepared himself for the onslaught of hurtful comments that were bound to come his way but was still surprised by how cold Sherlock sounded, “You know what John, for once, you’re actually right about something. I don’t need you. I don’t need your medical expertise or you following me around everywhere trying to keep me safe, I managed fine before and I would manage fine again if you left so really it’s up to you. If you think you can make your own way then please by all means move out.”

 

There it was. Sherlock had never needed him, never wanted his help, when he’d asked John to come with him for the Study in Pink, he had probably just wanted to show off and John had been convenient. The problem was, he had no idea what to do now. He had wanted to provoke Sherlock enough that he would tell John how he felt but he had never thought about what he would do if it turned out Sherlock didn’t want him. It seemed like the only thing he could do was leave and try to maintain his dignity, he didn’t want to leave but he had clearly been delusional when he thought they were friends. 

 

“Right, okay then. I’ll just go pack then shall I?” John was impressed with how steady his voice was and slowly got to his feet from where he had been perched on a kitchen chair. As soon as he stood though, he felt a dull ache start up in his leg, a worryingly familiar ache. He tried to ignore it as he took a step towards his room but couldn’t and his leg almost buckled, tears of sadness, heartache and frustration started to burn the backs of his eyes but he kept his face stoic as he slowly limped his way to the stairs.

 

John could feel eyes on the back of his neck and had only one thought, ‘I was warned about you, I never once thought I should have listened. Until now.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger...again.  
> Next chapter will be up tomorrow so stay tuned :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger but here's the next chapter :)  
> Enjoy!

Oh God. Oh God, what had he done. John was leaving, leaving. And Sherlock was about to let him go. No that could not happen, it didn’t matter what he had said, he could fix it, John would forgive him, John always forgave him. But the things he had said! John had looked devastated before he had controlled his expression and it pulled at Sherlock knowing that he had put that look on John’s face. His limp as well, he had had no idea that John’s mental state hinged so heavily on him and now that he had said those things it was back.

 

He was an utter idiot. He was brought out of his inner flagellation by a buzzing coming from the table in front of him, he had a text.

 

I know sometimes you are oblivious to human emotion put please tell me you plan to fix this.-MH

As much as it disgusted him to say it, Mycroft was right, Sherlock had to do something or else he would lose the best thing that had ever happened to him; John would leave and he would never see him again. It had never occurred to him that John was the best thing to ever happen if his life, did that mean that he harboured feelings for him that went beyond friendship? He thought it was a fairly safe bet to make but now was not the time to contemplate this, it would likely become an issue later on but for now he had bigger problems.

 

Turn off the cameras and the microphones, this has nothing to do with you-SH

 

As you wish brother-MH

 

Abandoning his phone, Sherlock jumped up from the chair and quietly made his way up the stairs, his arm twinged as he did so but he ignored it. Getting closer to John’s door, he could hear and soft sound coming from the other side, at first he thought John was sleeping and then realised that he could hear mumbled, barely coherent words,

“Stupid, stupid, idiot. What did you expect him to do, beg you to stay? No of course he wouldn’t and now because you wanted to be vain and know what Sherlock felt about you, you’ve single handedly ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to you, idiot.”

 

John was inside that room, crying and berating himself and all Sherlock could do was stare at the door as if it held the answers to the universe. He had done this, he had made brilliant, immovable John cry. Imagining John on the other side of the door made Sherlock resolve strengthen and he knocked timidly.

 

Almost immediately, the soft noises stopped and he heard John move around, “John, I need to talk to you. May I come in?”

It took a little while for John to answer but when he did Sherlock heard the waver in his voice, “No Sherlock, I’d rather you didn’t. I’m packing and I’ll be out of your hair soon.” John’s voice broke halfway through and he cleared his throat once he had finished talking.

 

“Ok then, I’ll wait out here until you’re ready to let me in. I came to apologize. The things I said to you just now were harsh and uncalled for, I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He could hear John’s breathing but there was no sign on him moving closer to the door to open it and let Sherlock in. 

 

“Okay Sherlock, thank you I suppose. I’m going to get back to packing now if that’s all?” Even emotionally stunted Sherlock knew that wasn’t enough of an apology for the things he had said so he tried again.

“No John it’s not. I said that I didn’t need you and that was true-”

“Sherlock, if you are just coming to reiterate all that you just said, you don’t need to worry, I got it all the first time.”

“No John, if you would just listen, I don’t need you here literally because I am smart enough alone but I do need you here in the sense that I would be attacked by officers at the Met if you didn’t stop me saying something overly harsh, even if they are all morons. I need you because you keep me sane when we don’t have a case, you make me eat and drink and you’re much better company than the skull so please, I need you to not leave. I need you to stay here.”

He heard an intake of breath from the other side of the door and slow steps heading in his direction, he stepped back as the door was opened, not wanting to crowd John. The John that pulled open the door was not the John he knew, he had puffy red eyes from crying and he looked tired, “ I swear Sherlock, you need to tell me if you are lying because I could not handle it if you were.”

 

Sherlock took a small step closer and looked John in the eye as he said, “John, I promise you I’m telling the truth.” John searched his face and his shoulders relaxed as he apparently found what he was looking for.

“Good because I really don’t want to leave. I’m sorry too for saying you did nothing for me, you saved my life without even knowing, when I first met you I was about a day away from eating a bullet and you gave me something to live for.”

The moment was loaded and something changed in the eye contact they were sharing, Sherlock suddenly realised what was happening, John was leaning closer to him and his eyes were sliding shut.

He couldn’t do this, it was too soon, he wasn’t even sure what this was, he had never done this before. Without even realising what he was doing, he was putting his hands to John’s chest and pushing him backwards.

“John, I-” He didn’t know what to say but John took care of it for him.

“Sherlock, it’s ok. Just forget about it.” John then leaned up and kissed his cheek but turned away quickly turning a deep shade of red. Sherlock couldn’t believe it but he could feel his face warming up as well, however, the realisation of what had just happened really hit him and he pulled away breaking the moment.

 

“I’m going to go get dressed and text Lestrade to see if he has any new cases. I’ll just-” He ran away before John could see the conflict on his face.

\----------------------------  
It was days later when he was alone in his room finally giving in to sleep that he realised that John had leaned to kiss him. John wanted to kiss him. What did this mean? Did John want something more? Even if that was the case, could Sherlock step up to the plate? He wasn’t so sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I wrote it but Sherlock is an idiot!  
> Next chapter will be up tomorrow :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, there's just an epilogue :)  
> Enjoy!  
> Also, if anyone gets the very vague supernatural reference you get a cookie :)

Life continued on as normal for the two inhabitants of Baker Street, solving cases, chasing criminals, the same old business.

However, ever since that day about a month ago, there had been a tension in the flat that wasn’t there before. John found it much harder to talk to Sherlock because the detective was always distracted and answered with vague noises, it seemed like he was treading on eggshells all the time as he couldn’t tell if Sherlock was angry or frustrated or what.

 

On the other hand though, Sherlock had started letting John know where he was at all times and even occasionally shopping and doing housework. Sherlock’s experiments stayed on the tamer side (i.e no body parts, fires or explosions) and he now only played his violin either when John was out or quietly in his room if he was in.

 

On the outside, it was perfect, Sherlock was being the considerate flatmate but it was so totally wrong that it worried John to the core; he knew Sherlock could act but he never thought he would see one of those horrible fake smiled directed at him. It hurt him much more than he thought it would that Sherlock believed John would take him at face value, after all this time together, he thought Sherlock trusted him with his problems. Apparently not.

 

Sitting alone in his bedroom as he couldn’t stand to stay in the living room with such an alien being, John used the time to reflect on what had led to this strained atmosphere. It was his fault, plain and simple. He was the one that had tried to kiss Sherlock when he clearly didn’t want that. Sherlock had told him he was married to work, he had never shown the slightest romantic interest in having a relationship with anyone, let alone John, so whatever had possessed him to try this? John understood all of this and yet he still felt strangely hurt that Sherlock had pushed him away and without even a word to contrary, accepted John’s evasion of it. It was clear to him now as it hadn’t been before that his feelings weren’t reciprocated so he should just try to move on, forget he ever loved Sherlock and find someone else.

Oh yeah, like that was ever going to happen.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a month since John had tried to kiss him and Sherlock’s mind was still in turmoil. He loved John, that much was clear to him but he had never done this before. Ever. With anyone and he didn’t know whether he could just let go like that and trust John to catch him. He hated being vulnerable so this was pretty much his worst nightmare.

 

He was sitting alone on the couch in the living room thinking about John. The other man had been spending more and more time in his room lately as if he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him. Sherlock had tried everything he knew of to make John happy, keeping safe on cases, eating regularly, all the things he wouldn’t do normally but it just seemed to push John further away. It was worrying him and he never worried about anything but the idea of John leaving just because Sherlock did something stupid and rejected him made him want to check if John was still here, just a floor away.

 

John had insisted that everything was fine and that he would forget about it but it seemed something was keeping him from that and Sherlock didn’t know what the problem was. He needed to figure out what he could do, he didn’t know if he could have a relationship with John, he wanted to but he was scared-not that he would ever admit it-to try. 

He needed to talk to John, and soon before he realises he would be better off somewhere else.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things were still tense a week later but something had changed, Sherlock was still the considerate roommate but he was in one of his black moods, refusing all cases from Lestrade and wearing too many nicotine patches, if John didn’t know better, he would say Sherlock was on a case but they hadn’t had one for almost two weeks.

 

John avoided Sherlock at all costs now as it was one of the worst black moods he had ever seen, the crazy lunatic downstairs was even snapping at Mrs Hudson and she had nearly been in tears the other day after coming up to see if they were having a ‘domestic’. Today was different though, Sherlock had been refusing to eat or drink and he needed something or else he would suffer so it was up to John to brave the storm and try to make him eat something. He was not looking forward to it.

 

As far as he could tell, Sherlock was asleep so John crept downstairs and into the kitchen where he started to make scrambled eggs on toast as quietly as he could so as to not wake the slumbering beast. Once he had done, he carried it into the room and set it down on the coffee table next to Sherlock’s head. Next came the tricky part, actually waking the younger man up. John put a hand to Sherlock’s closest shoulder and shook gently but it was as if Sherlock had been electrocuted, he shot straight up into a sitting position and glared at John through the curls that had fallen in front of his face.

 

“So you’ve finally come out of hiding then?” John had only ever seen that sneer aimed at Donovan and Anderson but he marched on anyway, needing to get through to Sherlock.

 

“Yup. I made you some food, I expect you to eat it. You haven’t eaten in days and you’re wasting away.” John spoke in what he hoped was a soothing voice but it seemed to rile Sherlock up even more.

“Is that your medical opinion, Doctor?”

“Yes and as your doctor, you will listen to me Sherlock, don’t make me force feed you.” He would do it as well, if Sherlock needed it he would, or he would call Mycroft and see what happened.

 

“No you won’t. You wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt me would you? I mean after all, you seem to care for me more than what is strictly acceptable between friends, isn’t that right John?” John didn’t know what to say to that, he had put the whole kissing debacle out of his mind as he didn’t want his feelings to affect Sherlock but he seemed to have failed. If Sherlock was trying to get a rise out of John, then he would not oblige, he would stay calm.

 

“Oh yes, go ahead Doctor, stay silent, I think that speaks for itself don’t you? You tried to kiss me so apparently you’re not as straight as you want everyone to believe. Interesting that isn’t it? Or maybe it’s not as deep as I’ve been thinking, could you not be bothered to pick up another meaningless woman so you turned to me instead. How pedestrian of you John.” He could deal with Sherlock flinging insults at him but he could not let Sherlock believe that, the only problem was that if he didn’t say that was the reason, he would have to give an actual reason and then he would be screwed. What the hell, it couldn’t really get much worse than this could it.

 

“Sherlock. How can you think I would use you like that? You are my friend and that is my highest priority, if that means forgetting some stupid mistake to ensure we stay friends or force feeding you to keep you alive, I will do it.” Sherlock was watching him with hawkeyes and John found himself staring straight into them, Sherlock needed to know John was telling the truth.

 

“A stupid mistake? Do you regret it that much?” Sherlock had apparently been acting if the speed his face dropped was any indication. He looked just like he had a month ago when they had been arguing and John had almost left; hurt, broken and alone.

 

“Truthfully, yes, I do regret it. We’ve been so out of touch for this whole month Sherlock. What I did was stupid, I thought that maybe you felt the same way I did but I was wrong, you pushed me away and it was my fault. I told you to forget it in the vain attempt that you wouldn’t overanalyse it and see what I have been trying to hide from you.” He really hoped this didn’t backfire but by the look on Sherlock’s face, he was doomed. Sherlock had his deducing face on and was clearly analysing John.

 

“The fact that you tried to kiss me shows that you want something more than the friendship we have but you accepted it when I pushed you away thinking you would just try your luck, wait no, you let me push you away because you hadn’t meant to kiss me and you were worried about how I would react. You don’t want anything to change if it means our friendship would be jeopardised so you don’t just want a one night stand, you wouldn’t care if that was the case but you do so it means you want a long-term relationship. You had clearly thought about it as you didn’t slam me against a wall, you were leaning in slowly trying to gauge my reaction so that hints to prior thought. The only reason that I can think of as to why you would forget your heterosexuality would be if you were in love with me-” At this point Sherlock stopped and looked up at John disbelievingly,

“Well, how did I do?”

 

He was right on every count, of course and now his face shows nothing apart from disbelief as if the idea of John loving him was so unbelievable that it warrants even Sherlock Holmes’ morbid interest. Sherlock had said his part and it was even more humiliating than he thought it would be, better to end everything now and save him further embarrassment at the hands of the one he loved.

“Yes Sherlock, of course you’re right. I’ll just go pack a bag shall I? I don’t want my feelings to disrupt your work. Just make sure you eat something you great berk or I’ll tell Mrs Hudson.” John tried to inject levity into his voice but it mostly just fell flat, he didn’t want to leave, after the argument a month ago, it was pretty much the least attractive choice but he wouldn’t stay here to be ridiculed by Sherlock as it was apparent he didn’t care if John loved him or not.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh hell, he had done it again. He wasn’t going to let John get anywhere near to leaving this time though and as the army doctor was walking away, he sprang up over the coffee table, grabbed his arm and pulled him into a messy kiss that had no finesse at all. As expected, John pulled back immediately and his face turned stormy, “I will not be one of your experiments and if you think this will make me stay, you have another thing coming Sherlock.”

 

He could not let John leave.

 

“John, I don’t say it often but I am truly sorry. Sorry for pushing you away the last time you tried to kiss me, it was an impulse as you surprised me but please don’t leave.” John still looked dubious so he kept going.

“John, I have never been as close to anyone as I have to you, I think it was inevitable that I would fall in love with you. You love to point out that I am not a sociopath and you are right so this was only a matter of time,” Seeing the look on John’s face, Sherlock went to reassure him, “Please, I need you to believe me and I need you to stay, I probably won’t say it often but I swear, I do love you. So much.”

 

The ball was in John’s court now, would he flatten it, or hit it back?

 

“Then why did you push me away before?” Sherlock hadn’t been holding John’s arm but once John realised he was telling the truth, he tentatively took the detectives hand in his, staring at it in wonder.

 

“Well, I- I’ve never-I’m a- I’mavirginandIgotscared.” Somehow John must have managed to decipher his babble because now he stared at Sherlock in disbelief.

“It’s true, I was just not interested in it before I met you, but now things are different and for once I had no idea what to do so instead of letting you help me, I pushed you away.”

 

“Oh Sherlock, you great idiot. I love you so much you know that?” With those words, John very slowly cupped Sherlock’s face and pulled their lips together in a short, chaste kiss.

 

“What am I going to do with you?” It was spoken with love and affection, everything that Sherlock didn’t realised he had needed.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they were tucked into bed later that night (just for sleep, minds out of the gutter people:)) Sherlock was resting his head on John’s chest and playing with his fingers, John was totally content. When Sherlock lifted his head to kiss him softly and uttered two words into his ear, there was only ever going to be one thing he could say.

 

“Stay John?”

“Oh God yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue will be up tomorrow (or later today depending on how bored I am :) )


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last chapter!  
> Enjoy :)

Sherlock and John had been together for about 3 months before they decided they would tell people they were finally together, John thought he could just stop saying he wasn’t gay when people assumed that of him but Sherlock shot that down very quickly. Mycroft already knew as he had simultaneously sent his congratulations to the pair and a threat that if John hurt his brother, his body would never be found. John also feared Mrs Hudson knew as she had discreetly come up to asking him if they would please use the upstairs bedroom from now on.

 

The only people that still didn’t know were the ones down at the yard and Sherlock being Sherlock, he said he had an experiment to carry out on them and told him to not worry, they would not be harmed.

 

At first it was little things at crime scenes, light touches, meaningful looks. These were all commonplace at Baker Street where they were comfortable but not so much in public. Sherlock always refused anything romantic while on a case so these small touches, though not unwelcome, were just unexpected. John decided to talk to Sherlock about it as he had a funny feeling that the experiment had begun and he had not been informed. 

 

While they watching TV after a long, gruelling case, John took Sherlock’s hand from where it had been resting on his leg and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Sherlock? Not that I mind but how come you’ve been doing this at crime scenes? Has the experiment started?” John tried but failed to look stern when Sherlock looked at him, half asleep.

 

“I’m trying to see if Lestrade’s team will notice something has changed or whether we’re going to have to spell it out for them. Don’t worry, I plan for this experiment to not take long, they’re the most unobservant lot I’ve ever met.” John chuckled and gently guided Sherlock’s head to rest on his lap and, playing with his hair, he said, “For once I think I like your experiment.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

The small caresses increased in frequency and Sherlock now guided John to and from the crime scenes with a possessive hand on his lower back but the whole of Lestrade’s team still remained oblivious.

They were their way to the latest crime scene and as they got out of the cab, Sherlock winked at him slyly and took his hand. It seemed Sherlock had gotten bored with the experiment and wanted to skip to the result, well that was fine by John.

Hand-in-hand, they walked to the yellow tape separating the block of flats from the rest of the street and when they reached it, Sherlock held the tape up for John.

“Hey Fre-” When Donovan cut off abruptly, they both looked at her with amusement when they saw she was looking at their entwined hands with something approaching horror.

“Good morning Sally, perhaps you could let Lestrade know we’re here. Thank you.”

She soon snapped out of her stupor an nodded frantically, an almost evil smile tugging at her lips, “oh yeah, I’ll let them know alright.”

 

As the pair walked away, they could still hear Donovan speaking urgently into her radio and were still in range to catch the squeak of surprise that echoed down the bad connection.

“We’re going to get stared at aren’t we?” John asked in a resigned tone, he knew that Sally would have told Lestrade or Anderson first and even though Greg was their friend, neither of the two would be discreet about it. 

 

About four flights of stairs later, they walked into the crime scene but stopped as soon as they walked in the door. John was sure Sherlock had thought of every possible outcome...maybe except this one. All of the people in the room were standing and staring at them with huge grins on their faces, or in Anderson’s case; pure shock, and one by one they all started clapping quietly. The two of them stood, stunned, in the doorway and Lestrade came over to them, “It’s about time, we thought you’d never pull your heads out of your arses!”

 

John shook off his surprise with a bashful smile and Sherlock just scowled at them all, quickly flouncing off to look at the broken safe but John could see the happiness in his eyes.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The next day as John and Sherlock were coming out of Baker Street on their way to NSY, they met Lestrade outside the door, when asked why he was there all he said was that he was coming to give Mrs Hudson her money after winning the official ‘Johnlock’ bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> The rest of this story is already written so expect updates very soon :)


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